


That Eddisian Diplomat, Though ;)

by ConvenientAlias



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: But Argyros is a jerk, F/M, Gossip, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: “I wish we knew where Eugenides has set his sights. You can’t deny he’s been distracted.”“Well, it’s not any of us…”“I’m sure it will come out sooner or later,” the twenty-three year old attendant said wisely. “These affairs always do. I just hope it’s someone very beautiful and not someone kind or influential. I like to think he’s very shallow.”Irene quietly coughed.
Or, the one where Irene is married and her father is still alive, Eugenides is the worst diplomat ever, and Phresine is the only person in Attolia's court with eyes in her head.





	

Irene’s attendants had always talked around her freely. They seemed to think she couldn’t hear them or couldn’t understand what they were saying. It was not that they said anything insulting or treasonous—that would be pushing it even for them, in front of even a shadow princess—but apart from Phresine, the oldest and cleverest, they didn’t hold back on gossip, and gossip there was aplenty in a court like the court of Attolia.

Lately, all the gossip had been about the newest addition to the court: a certain diplomat from Eddis.

There were a lot of political reasons that the diplomat was interesting. No queen’s thief had ever been sent as a diplomat to another country before, and Eugenides was nothing if not his queen’s thief. To some barons, and to Attolis, Irene’s father, it seemed suspicious; maybe the thief was less here as a diplomat and more as a spy. But then, most diplomats did function as spies, to an extent. Only one expected Eddis to deploy her thief, at least, more subtly.

It was a bit odd for her to send Eugenides, to say the least. Not to mention that Eugenides was nothing like diplomatic. He had already insulted about half the court including Attolis and, much to Irene’s delight, her husband Argyros. Several times. He had also argued in diplomatic negotiations that instead of certain trade concessions to Eddis, the Attolians should build a temple to Hephestia or possibly (he winked) Eugenides. He got the temple, for Hephestia. Why Eddis would want such a thing, however, remained a mystery. They might take their gods seriously, but surely extra imported grain would have been more useful by far.

The attendants had been talking about Eugenides’ ridiculous exploits for the past two months more often than they spoke of any other man. His insults to influential nobles, his stupid demands, and, of course, his (apparently dashing) good looks.

Irene didn’t think Eugenides looked dashing. He looked…funny. Small. Harmless, except for that featherlike scar on his cheek. And young, very young. Seven years younger than Irene, only twenty years old. She didn’t know why Eddis would send someone so young and inexperienced.

Still, she supposed that she and the attendants reaped the benefits.

“He was talking to Sejanus at dinner,” one of the younger attendants said. “And he insinuated that Erondites had dealings with the Medes. I don’t remember his exact words—you never can remember exactly his turn of phrase, so clever!—but Sejanus was biting his tongue.”

“Is it true?” An even younger attendant asked. She was new at court. Didn’t know yet that it didn’t really matter what was true and what was false, only what everyone believed. No one really believed what Eugenides said. He was too much of a trickster.

On the other hand, no one really disbelieved anything he said either.

“Who cares?” said an attendant who was probably around twenty-three. “The important thing is Sejanus was on the verge of punching him in the face. Just like poor Costis.” Costis was a poor soldier who had punched Eugenides in the face the first week of Eugenides’ stay. He’d almost been executed, but instead been assigned as Eugenides’ personal bodyguard while he was at Attolia’s court—by Eugenides’ own suggestion. Yet another example of Eugenides’ insanity.

“Ah? I thought you liked Sejanus,” the youngest attendant said.

“Certainly, but after the way he treated Heiro…” 

“Who cares who Sejanus courts?” the first attendant said. “I wish we knew where Eugenides has set his sights. You can’t deny he’s been distracted.”

“Well, it’s not any of us…”

“I’m sure it will come out sooner or later,” the twenty-three year old attendant said wisely. As if she knew everything. “These affairs always do. I just hope it’s someone very beautiful and not someone kind or influential. I like to think he’s very shallow.”

The attendants all giggled, some murmuring agreement. Phresine shook her head.

Irene coughed quietly, and instantly all attention was on her again, though somewhat half heartedly. They knew they’d been caught slacking off (as if it could have escaped her notice when they were supposed to be working on her hair) but it didn’t bother them. Irene had never gotten anyone dismissed. At this point, she was just another piece of the furniture.

“Yes, your highness?”

“I’d like to wear these earrings tonight,” she said almost timidly, holding up her newest pair. “If you think they would match my clothing, that is.” They chose her clothing for her, in accord with what they thought would please Argyros. It wasn’t high fashion, but it was what it was.

“Ahhh,” the youngest attendant said, all attention fixed on the earrings. “How lovely. I haven’t seen those before.”

“An interesting style,” Phresine said, speaking for the first time that night. She was looking at the earrings very closely. “They would appear to be foreign.”

“Argyros’ taste is improving,” the twenty-three year old attendant said. “Well, you should wear those tonight. Are they a new present to you?”

Irene nodded. They were.

The attendants hummed in approval and continued to get her ready for dinner, which tonight would be accompanied by dancing on the roof, another of Eugenides’ ludicrous demands. Irene would not be dancing on the roof (Argyros would never allow her to take such a risk) but still she had to be dressed for the occasion, the equal of any of the other noble women. 

Such a matter was serious.

“The style is almost Eddisian,” Phresine murmured in Irene’s ear as she combed carefully through her ear. No one else seemed to hear her.

Irene silently smiled.

///…///…///

One might expect a man to stay with his wife if he forbid her to dance with the rest of the court. Even when that man is a prince, it is considered proper that he not spend his time dancing and flirting with other women. But then, Irene was barely considered a wife, and far less a woman. No one saw it as anything amiss that Argyros chose to dance, leaving her to her own devices with no company but Phresine, who said she was too old for such amusements. Phresine was not really that old, but someone did have to stay with Irene at all times. Even when she was at such innocuous activities as wandering in the garden.

“I would say that Argyros has comported himself badly,” Phresine said. “I would say that he will surely learn in time to hold his wife as his most precious treasure, as a man should. Only, my princess, I do not believe these are things you want to hear. Am I mistaken?”

Irene stared at the orange trees. The moon filtered through their foliage made the golden fruits look, instead, to be silver. She could not see the moon itself through their branches. “I would like to be alone tonight, Phresine.”

“You have been asking me to leave more and more lately, my child.”

Irene leveled a look at her.

“Your highness,” Phresine amended. “I do as you ask.” She turned away, but called as she left, “Be careful. There are those at court who are not fond of Argyros or of you. You must be a woman of high character, my princess.”

Irene watched her leave. 

As soon as she was gone, a voice filtered down from one of the trees like the moonlight. “Is that the one you said you like?”

“I thought you knew everyone and everything,” Irene said, not bothering to look up. “Come down. You’re no god to be speaking from the sky.”

She heard Eugenides drop lightly to the ground behind her. He was agile, certainly, and always subtle in his movements, unlike in his obnoxious actions at court. She didn’t turn to look at him until she felt his hands on her waist, warm and careful. He was always very careful with her.

“I saw you at dinner,” he said. He gestured to her earrings. “So?”

“They seem expensive,” Irene said. “Who did you steal them from?”

Eugenides just laughed. 

“They’ll miss you on the roof, won’t they?” Irene asked.

“Probably,” Eugenides said. “And then they’ll think I’m up to something. Probably stealing another amphora.” He’d been stealing a lot of things from the nobles, especially from the Erondites family, whose rage was slowly growing. Nor was he subtle about it—everything stolen showed up on altars to the Attolian gods. He said he would prefer to give them to his own gods but since they hadn’t built the temple to Hephestia yet he would make do. And only the gods themselves knew how bad the stealing might get then—if Eugenides was still around then, that is.

“If you could stop stealing things from the Oronus family, it would be much appreciated,” Irene said. 

“Mm? You like Baron Oronus?”

“He’s been behaving himself well enough,” Irene said. “He ought to be rewarded in some way. Father certainly won’t notice.” Erondites had Attolis almost by the nose. Something had to be done about that too—but a small thing like Eugenides’ thieving ways wasn’t going to make any difference there.

“Very well,” Eugenides said. “It’s all small time anyhow. I have to keep in practice somehow. But I’m more interested in stealing something else.” He waggled his eyebrows. Irene snorted.

Gently, she touched her lips to his. She let him lead for the most part, but he always waited for her to make the first move. Perhaps because he didn’t want to pressure her. Whatever the reason, she appreciated it. Argyros, when he bothered to see her as a woman and potential bearer of his children for a few minutes, was not as diplomatic.

He was very set on having an heir, which would cement his future role as Attolis. Irene was equally set on never giving him an heir. She’d been drinking certain teas recommended by a discreet midwife ever since they were married a few years ago, and she had yet to conceive. She supposed that meant they were working.

Eugenides had told her once, during one of their longer talks, that it was more than herbs at work. That the gods themselves meant for Argyros to die heirless, and her own heir to be someone else’s child. But while she knew his sincerity when he spoke of the gods, she somewhat doubted that particular prophecy. It seemed to point too conveniently towards Eugenides himself.

Did Eugenides want to somehow steal her throne? Probably not. This would be a bit of a roundabout way to go about such a task, and he knew her well enough not to suppose she would allow him to hold much power in her country. No, she was fairly certain that he out of all the men who had ever tried to seduce her he had the least political motives, even though he was more aware than most of them that she had greater ambitions than she let on. His interest in her was instead intensely personal. Because if their affair did get out, it would be a political disaster.

Irene found it somewhat flattering that he was willing to risk that much. Of course, she was risking as much in their affair as he was. Which was foolish, and would probably end up damning her.

Only, she thought as their lips met again, having to slightly bend so that he could even reach, she rather liked this route to damnation.

Of course, to hear Eugenides talk about the gods, he thought it was their path to immortality.

Tonight he spoke of them again, when their bodies were no longer entangled, their energy spent, but the moon still high in the sky. “I have heard from Moira.”

Irene yawned. “You seem to hear from her quite often. Should I be jealous of her, as a woman?”

Eugenides snorted. “Don’t worry. She never says anything nice.”

“And this time?”

Eugenides pulled up a clump of grass. “Your father is getting old and ill. He will not last much longer.” He turned to look her in the eyes. “The gods say nine months. You should prepare.”

“Nine months,” Irene repeated.

From anyone else, she would take such a declaration as a threat. From Eugenides, she didn’t bother. His connection with the gods was well known in all three nations, and even were he to decide to help Attolis out of the way, she couldn’t see such an action on his part as a threat to her. Her father’s time was long past up, and the idea of a deadline almost made her relieved.

Still.

“Nine months,” Irene said. She pursed her lips. “There will be much to do.”

“I will not be here then,” Eugenides said. “She also told me it is best I be in Eddis.”

It was, of course, best. Having a queen’s thief of Eddis in Attolia’s court during the power struggle that was likely to ensue…Well, even if it worked in Irene’s favor, it would make it look like she needed outside help. That would never do.

“Tell me I will never see Argyros on the throne,” Eugenides said.

Irene smiled.

They kissed again, lingering but lacking passion. The night was waning. Others might well come to the garden soon, and Irene needed to get back to her chambers.

When the attendants showed up, having returned from dancing themselves, they tutted over her mussed hair, wondering how she got it so messy when she didn’t even go dancing. They also had new gossip. The thief of Eddis had gone missing during the dance, and it was questionable where he had been. Stealing from another baron or, as the younger attendants liked to believe, meeting with a beautiful mistress?

Irene gave no input on the matter.

**Author's Note:**

> This was made for someone who requested "literally any queens thief fic, idc who/what about". So of course my default is semi-scandalous Eugenides/Irene, which we probably have enough of already, but oh well. In this AU Irene's father still hasn't died. She's twenty-seven and married to Argyros, but still just biding her time.   
> And then this dashing Eddisian diplomat comes along, and who could resist?  
> (I have a list of fic ideas I keep ready for occasions like these and the description for this one was literally "That Eddisian diplomat, tho ;)." So I kept it as the title because I'm dumb. If you have a better title idea let me know. Save my dignity.)  
> (Also comments and kudos would be much appreciated. Thanks.)


End file.
